


Sinister Kids

by lionheartsoul



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: AU, Angst, Dark, Gangs, Inspired by Six of Crows, M/M, On Hiatus, Revenge, Secrets, acrobat Marco, gang leader, kingdom - Freeform, second characters death, thieves
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-02
Updated: 2018-09-13
Packaged: 2019-07-05 21:58:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,537
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15872517
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lionheartsoul/pseuds/lionheartsoul
Summary: One seeks vengeance, one wants to return home, one wants to be forgiven, one is hiding who they are and one is trying to fix past mistakes. All have a past but none a certain future. And if they manage to stay alive, would they be willing to leave their past behind?





	1. There Is Always A Reason

**Author's Note:**

> Greetings to whoever is going to be reading this. I do hope you find this story interesting and before you proceeed, there's a little thingy you need to know. This was inspired by Leigh Bardugo's Six of Crows. Mostly the first chapter, but also some things from chapters to come, probably. I had posted this back in 2017 but I didn't know where to go with the story. Fortunately now, I have some inspiration so we will see how it goes. If any of you had read this the first time I posted it, there are some changes at the end of the chapter.
> 
> Well, that's all for now. Have fun and thank you for reading this!

**CONNIE**

Connie Springer had a sharp eye when it came down to shooting with his two beloved long, black revolvers, hence his nickname. Sharpshooter. Even when parted with his babies, Connie was outstanding in close combat. Skills his old man insisted on passing down to his son by constant training when he was a child. He was grateful. But he was more confident when he felt the weight of his revolvers in his hands. With aiming and shooting you could be certain of the outcome and minimize the surprises close combat hid. Precisely why, he did not fancy walking unarmed into enemy territory.

Parleys often happened between gangs in Trost. The old ways had it so that bloody conflicts were to be avoided with negotiations. Honor among thieves. But parleys were also to be held out on neutral grounds with a group of three or two representing each gang. The Lieutenant two of his seconds. No weapons allowed.

Today’s parley was an exception.

“This is a trap and we’re walking right into it”

Every inch of Connie craved for the sweet weight of his revolvers around his waist. Their agreement with The Vipers to meet them at their grounds stroke Connie as fishy. Anyone in their right mind would realize this was a trap. It was no secret The Vipers were after The Ravens’ claim of the port. And yet, he was the only one concerned about the parley.

“I should have taken my babies with me… This is just not sitting right with me”

“If I knew you were going to be this talkative, I would have left you behind Springer”

Connie’s lips curled up in a smirk.

“I’ll shut my mouth if you share with me what you’re planning for tonight”

“What makes you think I plan anything Springer? We are just going to talk with them”

“In their grounds? You’re definitely up to something”

“This is just a meeting. Nothing more, nothing less”

“I hate you sometimes”

“No you don’t”

Jean Kirschtein was a mystery Connie could not fully grasp. Only twenty-one years old and he already had managed to climb up the ranks of The Ravens and hold the position of the Lieutenant. All kind of nasty rumors surrounded his name, each nastier than the previous ones. No one knew which ones were true and which ones where not. And no one wanted to find out. Fear. Fear was a strong emotion and one Jean Kirschtein made sure to exploit thoroughly. And those who chose to ignore the notorious reputation were devoured by the demon’s cunning plans.

The meeting hour was midnight. They had three more minutes to wait before The Vipers were to show up. Connie was not the only one Jean had chosen to bring along today. Christa Lenz was the other. Christa was a petit, blonde girl. One of the newest members of The Ravens and one of the deadliest. Her appearance was her strongest weapon as no one suspected what she was capable of doing. Connie found out the hard way.

Christa was a great choice of a second for parleys but Connie could not help but wonder why Jean hadn’t chosen his right hand for this meeting. They all knew how the Wraith covered Jean’s back more than anyone else. But the Wraith was nowhere to be seen. Not that it would surprise Connie if he was to be standing behind him right now. The Wraith was light on his feet. No one ever heard him walk nor did they see him until it was too late or until the Wraith chose to make his presence known. Otherwise there would be no one to know where he was. Connie could never sense the Wraith’s presence. No one could.

But there was no point in thinking about what Jean’s plan was or why they came convinced that they would walk out of the parley without a single scratch on them. He had to trust there was always another trick up in Jean’s sleeve.

When the clock stroke midnight and the bells echoed around in Trost twelve times, Jaden showed up. Jaden was The Vipers’ Lieutenant. The forty year old man looked at Jean with malice and envy. His smile was wide and overconfident. Jaden believed that he had Jean where he wanted to have him and Connie knew he was a fool for trying to outcon the con artist.

In Jaden’s side was his right hand, Ennis. Not much had changed for Ennis. He still wore that black hood covering up all of his face, along with that white fox mask. No person had ever lived to tell what Ennis’s face looked like. They say Jaden was the only one who knew. Connie thought otherwise.

As he examined the black figure from head to toe, Connie got the eerie chills run down his spine. The man never talked. The man did not even make the slightest sound. Was he even human? Connie had thought about it many times and still hadn’t come up with a conclusion. More importantly, Jean was not even phased. They might make it out alive.

“I hear The Vipers had their hands full the past month. Care to explain why I keep finding your little dogs sticking up their noses in our deals, Jaden?”

“I am pretty sure I know nothing of that. But I’ll admit they’re bold to mess with Jean Kirschtein”

Jean let a dry laugh escape his lips. His face grew wider with amusement.

“We’d all appreciate it if you stopped trying to make a fool out of yourself Jaden. Trying to make an enemy out of me will not do you any good”

The irritation was all over Jaden’s face, his smile no longer the type Jaden put up for negotiations. It was clear he had no intend of negotiating tonight.

“Let’s cut the chit chat and get to the point now, shall we? You will give up the territory of the Sina Harbor to The Vipers. It’s time for a change in leadership”

“The Sina Harbor isn’t up for negotiation”

“I don’t remember asking”

He snapped his finger and a second later two people showed up next to Jaden and Ennis from the alley behind them. One Connie knew. Nicholas was the second person Jaden always brought along in parleys. Only this time, their meeting was no longer following the rules. The fourth person in the other party had his face covered. As soon as Nicholas tore the black fabric off of his head, Connie’s eyes widened. Thomas? They had last talked thirty minutes ago. Thomas, along with other five fellow members of The Ravens, was in charge of keeping watch of the southern exit. Making sure no one disturbed tonight’s parley.

As soon as Jean’s eyes had fallen on Thomas Wagner his gaze turned darker. When Jean had that look on his face, one thing was certain. There was going to be no mercy in his wrath.

“I am willing to let you walk away alive. Don’t test my patience”

It was Jaden’s turn to laugh. He was certain he had won. That this was all it took to corner Jean and blackmail him into doing what he wanted. This was an unexpected turn of events. They had one of their own. And Jean would not let them hurt someone from his gang. That was one of the reasons they followed him, among many others.

“You don’t get it, do you?” Jaden took a step closer, his crooked grin shooting up to his ears. “It’s game over Jean. You played well for a little brat. But now all of it is over”

In only mere seconds they were surrounded. All around them, armed members of The Vipers covered each exit. They would not escape the easy way if they even wanted to try. Connie had changed to a defending stance, recalling his father’s lessons. Fists raised, covering half of his face as he examined his enemies for openings. Connie made up for lack of height with speed. Jean wasn’t the only one they shouldn’t underestimate. A look over to Christa and Connie was glad to see she was preparing for a fight as well. Damn he felt he lacked without his pistols with this many opponents but screw it. He wouldn’t go down without a fight.

Jaden had somehow managed to be one step ahead of the demon named Jean Kirschtein and that was unheard of. Had the time come for the Trickster Demon to fall?

Jean was not in the slightest affected by the change in their situation. With a soft sigh he shook his head displeased. He held his pocket watch, sighing one more time.

“This is taking far too long”

He paid no attention to Jaden. He was not even worth of his time it seemed. And that made Jaden even madder.

“The hell you little prick think you’re doing there? There’s no way out of this. This is the end. You’re a dead man and you don’t even have the decency to beg for your life”

Jean only gave him a disgusted look before turning his attention to his watch.

“Let me make this clear. I only came all the way here to warn you. Next time you decided to mess with us, you won’t get away with only a broken arm”

“I am going to KILL YOU“

Jaden rushed forward, aiming a punch on Jean’s jaw. Jean docked, caught Jaden’s arm and with a swift move he pulled. The sound of bones cracking filled the air and right after came Jaden’s scream.

“KILL THEM ALL!”

But no one came. No one moved. And one by one, each member of The Vipers that guarded the exits fell on the ground unconscious. Jaden was lying on the ground, holding his arm and shouting around orders. When he realized what had happened, he turned to call orders to the two of his seconds. But what he saw, was something he did not expect. Ennis was pointing his gun to Nicholas and Thomas was being released. This was not the plan. This was not even close in Jaden’s worst case scenario. Because he never thought Ennis would betray him. So Jaden was left with the pain of a broken arm and the bitter taste betrayal left in his mouth.

“Ennis?! Why?!”

Ennis did not answer him, like he never answered any man that addressed him.

Jaden’s attention was turned to Jean and fear was the only emotion stronger than the pain he felt right now. It was as if he was seeing the young man for who he was for the first time now. The Demon everyone talked about was now revealing himself right before his eyes. No. The demon was always there. Jaden just chose to ignore his existence.

“I-I’m sorry. I will not get in your way again. P-Please forgive me”

Jean closed his pocket watch and returned it to its place. His face always serious and dark, never flattering or hesitating as he kneeled in front of Jaden. He knew how this would play out all along and Jaden could not be more terrified.

Connie and Christa had shifted back to an observing stance. No one dared to interrupt Jean. Not when he was in the middle of his job. Connie was relieved to know that in the end, the Trickster Demon had something up his sleeve. He was glad he got to live another day. And he was once more convinced that Jean Kirschtein was a man you never wanted to make angry.

“I let you live today, because you are not the person that angered me the most. You and your crew will never again trespass in our territory and every deal you make will go through me first. We will get 10% out of your profits and you will give them up with a big smile”

Jaden nodded eager to get this over with.

“That’s a good boy”

Jean got on his feet and turned around to face Thomas. He offered him a smile but there was something wrong with it. It may have fooled everyone else, but Connie had spent a long time with Jean to know when the other showed affection. And this smile held no affection. It was a smile filled with disappointment and disgust. It didn’t take long for Connie to understand why.

As soon as Thomas was far away from Ennis and close enough to Jean, he drew a small dagger out of his sleeve, holding it against Jean’s throat. A small trail of blood rolled down Jean’s neck but that was all there was to the attack. Because another blade was firmly held against Thomas’s throat, preventing him from sinking his own blade deeper in Jean’s.

Of course. It made sense. The Wraith was never too far away from Jean. Connie should not have been surprised. He said it himself. You never knew when the Wraith was going to appear.

“Let the blade fall Thomas and I will not slice your throat” the Wraith said and Thomas let the blade fall to the ground.

Jean sighed once more and knelt to pick the blade up. “We took you in when you had nowhere else to go Thomas and this is how you repay us?”

He twisted the blade around in his hands and eyed Thomas’s expression up close. Connie did not know what Jean would do next but one thing was clear in every one of them. Thomas Wagner deserved whatever punishment Jean saw fit.

“You have until midnight tomorrow to get out of Trost and never show your face here ever again”

Jean approached Thomas, standing only a few inches away from him. “Assuming you don’t bleed out to death today” and just like that he pressed the blade into Thomas’s shoulder. As deep as it could go. The Wraith let Thomas go and Jean turned to Ennis, bowing his head only slightly. “The deal is the deal”

“The deal is the deal” Ennis replied and returned Jean’s act of respect.

All the people present at the parley today were shocked to hear Ennis’s voice for the first time and probably the last. Jean did not let anyone say anything as he was the first to retreat, the others following behind him.

 

___________________________________________

 

**MARCO**

It was never difficult for Marco Bodt to get one of Jean Kirschtein’s jobs done. He owed the young man that much for the freedom he had offered him. The difficult part always lay when Jean expected him to be there and cover his back while never revealing all the details of his plan. That part, he hated about him. The Wraith was nothing more than another name. He couldn’t vanish and appear out of nowhere. He was no ghost. Jean was trusting him too much to be there when he needed him to, without having to know about specific details that might endanger one of Jean’s plans. Fool. The Trickster Demon was a fool if he thought that he’d keep succeeding this way.

As expected, when they arrived at The Beetle, the rest of The Ravens had gathered in the main hall, eager to get answers to their numerous questions. How had Jean managed to make a deal with Ennis? How did Jean deal with the rest members of The Vipers? Had Ennis really talked? What was his voice like? And the list went on and on.

Connie Springer was already the center of their attention as Jean seemed to withdraw to his room for the rest of the night. They all knew they wouldn’t get a word out of him. Connie was their best shot at getting an insight in how the parley had played out. And every member of The Ravens knew that Connie’s stories where the best. That boy wasn’t the brightest among them, but there were two things he excelled in. Fighting and storytelling.

Christa was enjoying her break with a glass of wine while she gave her own side of the story to a few of the new girls she worked with more often. Christa hadn’t yet made that much friends in the Ravens. At least not many she could completely trust.  Marco and Connie were the two people she trusted most. Marco trusted her too. He liked her. She was kind and she had a nice smile. He doubted she would ever betray him like Thomas had betrayed Jean.

Speaking of Thomas, no one spoke his name. The wound of the betrayal being still fresh, none of them wished to refer to that subject. They all knew it had happened, but all chose to ignore it. Even Connie refrained from mentioning Thomas’s name. Jean had made sure they all knew what happened to traitors, reminding them of the consequences. It was clear that Thomas’s betrayal pained them. Marco understood how they felt. Thomas was not that bad. Marco thought he was a good friend but, it didn’t matter anymore.

What mattered was that Jean knew beforehand that Thomas would have a blade pointed to his throat and said nothing.

For the parley, Jean’s words to Marco were clear. Jaden will break the rules and have his crew close off all exits. Make sure all of them are unconscious before ten past twelve. Marco had assumed that that’s all there was and had turned to leave before Jean stopped him. After that he had said, pay close attention to the fourth person Jaden will bring out in the parley.

That was all he had given Marco before disappearing to join Connie and Christa. When Marco first saw Thomas, he had assumed Jean meant to interfere if Nicholas intended to kill him. But then Ennis had that part covered and instead, Thomas was getting released. Then why had Jean said to pay close attention to Thomas? It made sense when he saw Thomas moving. As a knife wielder himself, Marco saw through Thomas’s attack right before he drew out his dagger. His body had moved on its own in seconds. Leaving behind his cover and with his light feet, Marco had reached Thomas without anyone hearing the smallest sound. And just like that it was over.

But it was a lucky guess. If Thomas carried a gun instead, Jean now would have been seriously injured. Not to say he might even be dead. That thought did not settle in nicely with Marco. He still had a debt to pay. He couldn’t let him die.

He thought about it over and over again as he made his way up to the fifth floor and Jean’s room. Escaping the rumpus downstairs wasn’t a big deal. No one heard him leave. The problem was Marco’s thoughts. If Jean wasn’t around, would Marco stay? And if someday he managed repaying every last penny of his real debt to Nile Dawk, what would he do next? Would he stay for Jean? Would he leave to find his family? Could he even face them?

By the time he reached Jean’s room, Marco had thought those questions over and over again. He came up with no answer. So he decided to drop those haunting thoughts for another time. It wasn’t like he was going to be sleeping tonight anyway.

Without bothering to knock, Marco stepped inside Jean’s room. Jean liked to keep things simple. He had his desk in the center of the room, his bed in one corner further in the back and his libraries covering the rest of the space in the walls.

“Not sneaking through the window this time?”

Jean stood beside the big window that looked over Trost. There was a small window seat there that Marco loved. Whenever Marco couldn’t sleep, he would sneak in Jean’s room through the open window. Jean always left it open. When Marco had asked him of the reason, Jean had simply said that he didn’t have anything to fear. _If a man has to lock himself in his room in fear of his enemies, he can hardly survive a day in these streets._ Marco had found that logic odd. A man taking precaution was not weak. He was clever. You could never be too careful, especially when you lived this kind of life. _Oh I didn’t say I would be helpless if someone came to take my life. Let them come. Let’s see then whose blood will paint these floors._

He remembered that night. It was the first night Marco sneaked through the window and found out that Jean had also trouble sleeping. And since then they met up like this. After some time, Marco realized that he could sleep on that window seat better than he could in his own bed. And Jean let him.

Jean and Marco had gotten used to each other to some extent. Marco had no scruples in expressing his opinion where he thought it was needed. And he wouldn’t hesitate to let Jean know what his thoughts were. He didn’t fear the Trickster Demon, because he understood him better than those whispering rumors all over Trost. Jean would accept any kind of job and he didn’t mind getting his hands dirty but, there was always a reason. He wouldn’t do anything without cause or motive, even if sometimes Marco questioned whether those reasons where for a good cause.

“You knew about Thomas”

“I did”

“For how long?”

“Three weeks”

“And you didn’t say anything”

“Too risky. Jaden has ears everywhere”

“You could have given me something more”

“I knew you would figure it out. Didn’t you want me to trust you more?”

“That’s not how trust works Jean. What if Thomas had a gun instead?”

“But he didn’t and it’s over”

Marco saw Jean run a hand through his hair and turn his tired gaze towards him. Jean Kirschtein had hazel eyes. It was a detail Marco had noticed on the first day he met him. Sure he wasn’t the most innocent man, but those eyes weren’t the eyes of a demon. Not all of the time.

“You won’t always come out victorious Jean. Your luck will run out one day”

“When your Gods decide that that day is to come, I will gladly accept my fate”

By the way Jean had stressed the word God, Marco understood this was the end of their conversation. Marco wouldn’t describe himself as a die-hard religious person. He simply cherished the beliefs his family had taught him over the years. He knew Jean wasn’t going to believe in the existence of a God looking out for them and it was fine. But he also knew that when Jean was tired, he tended to mock Marco’s beliefs and sayings of his people. And that was Marco’s que to leave.

“Every man seeks a God in the end. They call out to Him when they need a miracle. But by then, it might be too late”

And with that Marco left, leaving Jean’s room without giving him a second glance.

 

______________________________________________

 

**JEAN**

At times, Jean could live without having to hear to Marco’s lectures. He wondered why the Wraith made it his purpose to pull out of Jean any decency that was left in him. He wouldn’t find much there. Traits like that had disappeared a long time ago. But he could recognize that he wasn’t being completely fair to Marco. He may not have shared his views but he liked it when he got to tease Marco about them. Not to the point of offending him, he knew better than that. If it weren’t for Marco’s reactions he didn’t think he would bother messing with him.

But he was in no mood for a fight now. He was tired and all he wanted to do was to be alone with his thoughts. What exactly had Jean achieved until now? Was he really satisfied with what he had gained and the means he used to be where he was now? Would Aiden be proud? Would Sasha?

No.

The answer was always no. They would both be disappointed with his choices and how he ended up being. But what could he do? Rot away in this town? Let those with more power destroy him? He couldn’t allow it. How could he? After all, death was the easy way out and Jean didn’t deserve it.

Fortunately for him, he did have work to do. Besides, this place was not going to run on its own.

______________________________________________

Being the Raven’s Lieutenant came with different kind of responsibilities. Many thought that his job only included dangerous and severe criminal activity, but it was more to it than that. True, those were a big part of his duties. Blackmailing, bookmaking, illegal gambling, smuggling, counterfeiting, prostitution, violence, even murder at some occasions. But the Raven’s also offered protection. In these streets were the powerful preyed on the weak, Jean had made sure to protect those that couldn’t fight for themselves. That is, if those didn’t try to screw him over like Thomas had. He was straight forward about his intentions. I offer you service, you offer me royalty and you work for me. Not asking more than what you can give. Just to never betray his trust.

So, as his usual routine went on, he visited all the bookies to check on the progress of their profits for the day, he checked on their representatives on the Trost harbor and their sailor partners, he patrolled the red-light district and the Raven’s places to see if their hostesses were safe. That was his duty as the Lieutenant. The smooth and profitable operation of their gang’s activities. At least for now. Until he could find a way to repay what he owned the dead.

As he found himself returning home after finding out that everything was in order, he looked at his pocket watch. There was still time to enjoy one last walk around Trost with his shadow never leaving his side. Jean smiled to himself. He knew when Marco was following, he could always tell, even if lately it became more difficult to realize. It was more of a subconscious realization. That something familiar was protecting him. That boy never left him alone, even if they had argued not so much as an hour ago. Marco Bodt was too forgiving and trusting. He was going to be disappointed by Jean soon enough. It always ended that way.

“You need to stop following me around every time I leave The Beetle. I can protect myself”

Marco revealed himself from the alley ahead and emerged from the shadows. He didn’t say anything. He simply walked next to Jean, joining him in his walk. He was still irritated with Jean and his silence was more than enough for Jean to know. This was the only person that managed to stir different responses out of Jean. Apologizing for example, wasn’t what Jean was used to doing.

“If you’re going to give me the silent treatment, why not keep watching me from the shadows. It’s no different than what we’re doing now”

Even though Jean wanted to apologize for his behavior, he only seemed to make things worse as Marco’s eyebrows twitched and he bit the inside of his mouth, turning to disappear again. _This fucking guy._ Jean thought and caught Marco by his arm, keeping him in place. That seemed to surprise Marco as he stayed put, tensing. _Still not comfortable with others touching him…_ Jean let him go and sighed, rubbing his forehead.

“Look. I am sorry for not telling you more about Thomas” he paused and looked up into those brown eyes he had become so accustomed to.

“I do trust you. If I didn’t, I wouldn’t have left my life into your hands. It’s everyone else I don’t trust, and I couldn’t risk someone overhearing what I was planning on doing. It would have ruined everything”

Marco raised his eyebrow and crossed his hands waiting for the second part of the apology. Jean crossed his arms back at him and tapped his finger on his arm. _He is enjoying this._ That thought made him smirk a little.

“And I am sorry for taunting you about your religious beliefs. I did not mean it. Happy now?”

Marco finally smiled and nodded, replying with “I would be happier if your apology had more emotion to it but, I guess I should be realistic”

“Asshole”

They both laughed at that and kept walking ahead in silence, enjoying each other’s company. It was all he could give Marco for now. A temporarily moment of peace. For the last time, Jean looked at his pocket watch. His last token of _those two_. It was time. He took it off and threw it at Marco.

“Keep it safe for me”, a last smile and a farewell. They had reached the Beetle.

Marco looked confused and held on to the watch. Jean never let go of that watch and now he was passing it on to Marco. The confusion turned to worry and worry to fear. It was strange for Jean to see someone have those expressions for him. _He is so strange,_ he thought and then out of the shadows surrounding them came the police force of Trost. Jean always thought it strange that a place like Trost needed a police force when the police force itself was consisted of gangsters.

A few caught Jean by his arms and threw him on the ground face first, immobilizing him, twisting his arms behind his back and handcuffing him all the while Marco watched, being pulled back by what seemed to be ten people.

It all had happened so quickly Jean didn’t have time to calm Marco down. But as the two men who handcuffed him, picked him up, Jean saw Marco’s eyes darkening and all he could sense from him was a strong murderous intention. Marco was reaching for his knives.

_No… No, no, no! You idiot… What are you thinking?!_

Jean struggled to break free and reach Marco to calm him down. He would cause unnecessary trouble. This wasn’t supposed to happen.

“Wraith! Stop this right- “

But Jean stopped in the middle of his sentence as he saw Marco collapsing down on the ground unconscious, Jean’s watch clenched in his palm. Behind him, a short man with dark hair and an icy glare and two unconscious police officers. Levi Ackerman. The Vice Chief of the Shinsengumi himself had come to arrest him. He leaned down, picking up the watch out of Marco’s grip and pocketing after looking at Jean.

“Pick the brat up and take him away”, Levi said and made his way to Jean.

“Kirschtein, you’re under arrest for the attempted murder of our Emperor. You can thank your boss for giving you up to us”

At that moment Jean saw him, sitting in the alley next to the Beetle, sighing and ruffling his hair. Nile Dawk. His boss and founder of the Raven’s.

“Take him away”, Levi ordered.

Jean was pushed to walk ahead inside of the carriage but he clenched his fists and resisted the shoves as he looked at Levi. He was supposed to go down on his own. There shouldn’t have been any more casualties. He was the one supposed to go to jail. Not Marco. _I will kill him…_ was all he could think as Levi got close to him one more time.

“You messed with the wrong man, Ackerman”, Jean said and spat on the other as a wicked smile creeped on Jean’s face. Jean saw everyone around him take a step back. All except those that kept him in his place and Levi who was now inches away from his face.

“You’re pushing it Kirschtein”, Levi leaned besides his ear and whispered. “I have been waiting a long time for this moment. Sweet Dreams” and those were the last words that Jean heard before feeling a sudden pain in his stomach and everything around him fading to black.

 


	2. The Arcana

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Second chapter is up. 
> 
> And since we are here, there are a few things I would like to mention. English isn't my mother language so I am doing the best I can. If anything is not completely right, do excuse my English. 
> 
> Another thing i would like to mention is that, the story takes place in a fantasy world that was inpsired by Six of Crows. But I am not that good at world building or describing outfits. So, here is a link from pininterest where I draw inspiration for outfits, places, characters and the world this story revolves around: [Sinister Kids](https://pin.it/wkeqnl3jsyff32)
> 
>  
> 
> I hope you enjoy this as well. In the future there will be more boards on pininterest in order to give you maybe a clearer picture of how I am imagining things.

 

**MARCO**

  _“I am trying!” Marco whined as he struggled to keep his balance on the rope, carefully placing one foot in front of the other and his hands raised in the air as his father had instructed._

_“You are whining Marco, not trying” his father replied, laughing softly when his youngest son misplaced his right foot, slipping and falling face-first on the ground._

_He couldn’t do it. He would never be able to cross over the damned rope. All his other siblings had done it by the time they had reached their fifth year and Marco was seven. A child of a family of acrobats and he couldn’t even walk on a rope, one meter from the ground. He slowly got up, his face tearing up without being able to control it. He felt like he would never make it._

_He saw his father approaching him and hid his face in his arms, too embarrassed to let him see his tears. As he sat there, he felt a soft pat on his head and his father petting his hair. That was comforting._

_“Marco, it is okay to cry. We become stronger through pain and no pain is trivial enough to ignore or mock. So, don’t be afraid of your emotions”_

_His father always knew what to say. The right words to make Marco feel at ease._

_“But I am late… No one took this long to learn. And I want to be able to make it. Be like Ezra! He always looks like he is flying”_

_His father laughed once more and picked him up in his arms, looking over at his first son Ezra, wavy black hair and green eyes. He took after their mother. Both starred as he gracefully walked over a rope fifteen meters up in the air. That sight was breathtaking. Especially for Marco. Being able to defy gravity, even for a single moment, you would be able to understand how the ancient spirits felt in the stories. Being completely free. And Ezra had found it. Up there he was always free._

_Marco always looked up to him. Ezra was Marco’s favorite and Marco Ezra’s. And soon he would have to leave. Leave them to go and see the world on his own. Marco’s family were nomads. Never staying put in one place, always travelling. He was too young to understand it, his brother had told him, but being able to travel anywhere you wanted, to be able to find a home whenever you went was what freedom meant. Of course, for Marco that wasn’t enough. ‘What about us? You’ll leave us behind’ Marco had replied, and his brother pressed their foreheads together, taking Marco’s hand and placing it over his heart. ‘No matter where we are, you’ll always be here Marco, with me’ and that was all it had taken to make him smile._

_“Ezra walked his first rope when he was eight” his father said, interrupting Marco’s thoughts. And when what he had said sunk in, Marco’s eyes widened._

_“Eight?! But he is better than anyone else!”_

_He could not believe it. Maybe, he could make it. He still had time._

_“Hahaha, it depends on how much you want to do something in order to get good at it. If you love what you do, success will come. That’s what your brother did”_

_Marco’s eyes were filled with determination. He didn’t care anymore if it was going to be difficult. He would keep trying and when Ezra came back he would make him proud._

_“A Suli boy? Miss Ialai, you never cease to amaze me”_

_Marco froze in place, his brother and father fading to dust and his body that of his fourteen-year-old self. ‘No… Not this again… Stop. Make it stop!’_

_“But that is what I am good at, Aldor”_

_He could not move. His hands tied above his head in a chain that hanged from the ceiling. He was back in that horrific place where he was stripped of his freedom. The man approached him and stroke his cheek. Marco tried to pull away, but the older man caught him by his face, forcing him to look at him. “Now, if you’ll excuse us” he motioned for the woman called Ialai to leave._

_“Of course, your majesty” she bowed and closed the door behind them, leaving the two of them alone._

_“Now, I am certain Ialai informed you about what I,” he paused getting up and removing his jacket. That white long jacket of the royalty. “am not that fond of seeing”_

_Marco was now shaking and crying. He wanted this to stop. To go back home, to his family. “Please… Don’t do this, please…” he was whispering. Someone had to stop this suffering. Put an end to this nightmare. He saw him getting close to a table where a series of tools were laid across and he saw him pick up a knife, one of his knives, the knives Marco’s mother had given away in hope of saving her son._

_“I hate it when my prey smiles” he spun the knife between his fingers as he got closer to Marco again. “But I love it when it screams” and with that he sliced Marco’s arm._

 

__________________________________

 

Marco screamed, sitting up and holding his arm where that cut had healed long ago. One among the many. _It was another dream. Just another dream Marco… It’s okay, you’re fine._ He had calmed down himself like this so many times in the past five years that he had lost count by now.

As his head began to clear and the pain fade away, he took in his surroundings. First he noticed the suffocating atmosphere of being under the surface of the earth as well as the absence of natural light, since there were no windows from what he could see. That was because of the dark. He was on top of an old mattress, ready to fall apart and in the right corner there was a bucket. Judging from the smell, he figured that that was what he was supposed to use if he needed to go to the bathroom. All of that and the bars in front of him could only mean one thing. He had ended up in prison. And not in just any prison. As he got up and reached the bars he saw it in the torches that light up his corridor. The red round symbol with the lion in its center. He had ended up in The Arcana.

“Gates will open shortly. You have twenty minutes to get ready and then go to the Arena. Those who don’t show up on time will be taken to Ground Zero”

A shout echoed through the corridor Marco’s cell was in. He wasn’t going to cause any more trouble. He had already done enough by letting his anger take over him. To survive in here, he needed to be concentrated and invisible. Both in which he was good at. The door to his cell opened and Marco stepped outside. _I need to find Jean._ He walked to the side of the corridor, concealing his presence. _That is, if they brought him here._ He looked around at every person he passed. Some of them must have been here for a long time. Those had scars, and some had missing limbs, eyes, ears or deformed faces. And the apathy in their eyes was what unsettled Marco. Those blank eyes, they didn’t care if they lived or died. Their soul and will broke a long time ago. The new ones on the other hand, like Marco, were in one piece. Fear took over them as they trembled at the thought of what was to come.

He couldn’t lose more time. He had to think this through. If Jean was indeed brought to this prison, what would his first move be? What was the plan? _Know your enemy._ Jean would try and understand this place’s rules. That’s how he works. He gathers intel, forms a plan and executes it. That was what Marco had to do.

Marco took in his surrounding, having now reached a room with a dome roof and guards on the railings that circled the room above their heads. Out of habit, his eyes scanned every inch of the room, collecting information that could be of use. That was what he did best and why Jean kept him around. Observing the room, he counted 50 guards on the railing and another 10 on the ground with them. If the prisoners revolted against them, they could overtake them by numbers alone, even if you didn’t count the ones unable to fight. And yet no one seemed to cause any trouble. _Just what is happening in this place…_

He had heard the rumors. The Arcana, the legendary prison where once you got in, you never got out. Some said that prisoners were beat to death here, others that they were left to die in their cell without giving them food or water and others talked about how there was a monster that they released at night to feed off anyone that it encountered. The last one could explain why there were so many injured. Maybe those had managed to escape it by sacrificing something. Marco didn’t know for sure, but he was certain he would find out.

The dome room had two exits. The one Marco came from and another across from there. _That must lead to the arena_.

He passed through the crowded room and made it to the other exit. Ahead lay another corridor only this time, it was darker than the previous one. As Marco walked, his hand reached for the spot where he hid his knives. Nothing. He figured they would have taken them away, but he didn’t like it. How would he take them back? It was all he had to remember his family.

He shook his head. _Focus on now_. He could think about how to get them back later.

After a while, the corridor led him to another dome room, only this time, ahead of him was a circled barred arena. There were three floors as it seemed, the arena where Marco stood and two other floors where he speculated an audience would watch. He spotted four circled stairs connecting each floor with the one above and on each floor, there were thick door cells that seemed to have a window that opened and closed by the one who was outside. This must have been a solitary confinement wing at some point. On the sand that covered the arena, Marco could see fresh blood mixed with the sand, altering the color. The smell of it was intense. Shivers run down Marco’s spine. It was a battle arena. But who fought who? What if prisoners here fought each other? What if he was forced to fight with Jean?

Before he could think it through though, a hand grabbed him by his arm and pulled him back, inside one of the solitary confinement cells. A guy around his height, wearing a hood to cover his face had sneaked on Marco. He wasn’t that strong, judging by the force he had used on him and he had taken advantage of the fact that Marco was lost in his thoughts.  But Marco’s reflects were quicker. As soon as he entered the cell, he caught the stranger by his free arm and spun him around, pinning him against the wall, arm bend behind his back. If he pushed the right way, the arm could break in two.

“Wait Marco!”

That voice was familiar. He could remember a blond boy Jean had brought along a year back, with blue wide eyes and a terrified gaze. But that person couldn’t be here. This had to be an illusion. He pulled the arm a little further. The other whined and touch Marco’s hand with his palm. And then Marco felt a strong sting in his arm, releasing the other immediately and backing away. That touch had caused the pain even if Marco was sure that the other didn’t hold any sharp objects. _An Eldian?_ His instincts were right. This was an Eldian, the ones cursed by God as they often were described. And it was Armin.

The other had removed the hood to reveal a blond boy with blue eyes and medium short hair falling a little below his shoulders, some worn up in a bun. He had changed a lot since he had last saw him. The unhealthy skinny boy that seemed to have starved to death was now fit and slightly muscled but above all healthy. That was comforting to know that Armin had been doing well. But what was he doing here?

“Sorry about that… But you were kind of trying to break my arm” he seemed to be in a hurry as Marco saw him searching around the room for something.

“Armin, what are you doing here?”

The sting was no longer there. As soon as Marco had stopped the contact between them it had stopped. Instead he became more and more confused as to what was going on.

“I don’t have time to explain… This was not how it was supposed to go. But I am sure Jean will explain everything to you soon enough.” Armin’s face was relieved when he found a small pouch bag behind a loose brick on the wall.

“Jean? He knew you were here? Then, this is some kind of his idiotic plans, isn’t it?!”

Of course. It had to be. And for yet another time Marco didn’t seem to deserve to know what the Trickster Demon was planning. That did make him angry. Was he nothing more than a tool? Did Jean think nothing of him? It was frustrating.

“Something like that” Armin looked at his pocket watch. “We can’t spend more time here. Take this” he threw Marco a small white bead. _A pill?_

“Take it when the fight starts and get on the first floor” He removed the hood, revealing a guard’s outfit from beneath. He went for the door and before he stepped outside, he shot a worried look towards Marco. _He is scared._ “It will be hard but please, don’t jump in to help Jean. Remember, he has a plan”

And with that, Armin stepped outside. Soon after, Marco heard lots of footsteps from outside the cell. Apparently, the rest had finally showed up. Keeping a low profile, he managed to step out of the cell unnoticed, follow Armin’s instructions and get positioned on the first floor. He had found a good spot to watch what was to come in the arena. The rest of the convicts had filled the rest of the spots on the first floor. On the second floor Marco noticed there were people dressed too well to be like the rest of them. The nobility. This was a spectacle for them and whatever the show was about, they had watched multiple times. It made Marco’s stomach turn. How could they wish to be a part of this and not stop it? People were killed. Even if they were considered criminals, they were people in the end. Living human beings.

The doors suddenly opened on the arena and the crowd above cheered. _Here it comes._ Marco’s fist clenched without him realizing it. He was angry and worried at the same time. Jean would probably make an entrance soon. And Marco wasn’t sure if he would be able to hold back.

On one end of the arena, a guy with long brown hair entered the scene. Marco could not see much of his face as the hair covered it up but, he seemed to be in good shape. He was strong enough to stand on his two feet with pride, but he seemed to have had bad days. He wore no shirt and that made obvious the numerous scars that covered his upper body. Many seemed to be old, but some were new and still fresh. He must have had a fair share of fights in here as well as before this prison. Once he reached the center of the arena he stood still, looking above at the night sky. From here Marco could see it too. This room had an opening high above at the end of the top of the room and the moon shone down upon the fight. That was when Marco also saw the guy’s eyes for the first time. Bright green eyes looking like they had lost everything. That guy wasn’t feeling alive. He was just existing, surviving. A look Marco knew all too well.

After a while another person walked inside the room. A person Marco had come to know and work with for the past five year. Jean Kirschtein had finally made his entrance. He walked in with a big smile on his face and a confidence that overtook the room. The cheers from above turned to mumbling and the prisoners around Marco seemed confused. Jean did have that impact on people. Confusing and tempting them with only a look. Except from Marco and the guy across from Jean. Those were the only with different expressions. Marco was angry, and the guy was indifferent. _This better end up well…_

Jean was holding two knives, each in one hand and the other guy had nothing. _Is he going to kill an unarmed man?_ A thought that didn’t settle nicely with Marco. Even the trickster demon had to have some core values.

He was proven wrong.

Jean dashed forward slicing the other’s cheek as at the last minute the other dodged, his eyes focusing on the fight in front of him. The indifferent look had now turned into that of anger. The guy squatted down, tripping Jean over and snatching one knife out of his hand, before backing away with a flip. Jean groaned but quickly jumped on to his feet backing away slightly. Cheers were heard once more from above and Marco remembered the pill. The fight had begun. He took it out and looked at it. What was it going to do and why had Jean told Armin to deliver this? Would this make him feel any pain? Was he going to believe and trust Jean after all the times he had kept him out of the plans? So many questions and never any answers. In the end though, Marco did trust Jean enough to follow orders. And with that he took the pill.

Returning his attention back to the fight happening in front of him, Marco saw two people fighting with all they had, trying to harm the other as quickly as they could. _Even Jean. He is anxious about something._ Why didn’t he notice it sooner? Jean was smiling not to intimidate but to hide something. His moves were becoming reckless and he had stopped thinking. This was a fight he wanted to be over with soon. _It must have to do something with the pill._ Armin had been looking at his watch all the time. Even now. Marco had spotted him standing besides the arena’s gate, looking from his watch to the fight all the while he bit his lower lip. _He is pressured by something._

Ten minutes had passed and the two fought on equal levels. Probably because the green-eyed man was here a long time. Jean hadn’t had that much experience in close combat, you could see it from his moves. Careless and formless. Random hits meant to hit pints of the body that would be fatal. On the contrary, the green-eyed man seemed to block Jean’s attacks for now, not attacking back. _He is studying Jean’s moves. He is searching for a blind spot._ If Jean kept this up soon enough he would be in trouble. He had to do something. He had to help him, or else Jean would end up dead.

Then, it happened.

Jean was stabbed in the stomach, the blood staining his white shirt. Without hesitation, Jean removed the blade and stabbed the other on the side of his stomach first and then on his thigh with the other knife he already held.

They stood like that for a few minutes before Jean’s opponent fell on the ground unconscious. Jean was losing a lot of blood. He couldn’t keep still anymore. _Don’t die on me Jean._ Just as Marco was about to jump over the railing to aid Jean, his head started spinning and his eyes were heavy. The last thing he saw was Jean dropping to his knees, one hand on his stomach and dropping unconscious on the ground. Then Marco passed out.

 

____________________________________________

 

**ARMIN**

 

 _It’s time._ Trying to keep himself calm during the fight was proved to be harder than he thought. Dragging away the body of the man that had led him here was even more difficult. At least, he had managed to keep both alive.

As soon as the fight had ended, Armin and another guard stepped in to remove the two bodies from the arena. Soon another fight would start, and they needed to be fast. He had two minutes. One for Jean and one for _him_. That’s all he could offer them for now. But his task wasn’t an easy one. Healing a wound needed precision and time. Healing wounds like these wouldn’t be possible in two minutes, especially if you didn’t have the right training for it. But at least, he could buy them some time and slow down the loss of blood. While he appeared to be checking their pulses to determine if they were dead or not, Armin focused on slowing down the flow of blood within the two. That could hold up for at least ten minutes. After that he needed to work with them more.

After declaring them both dead, which in a way they were for at least another twenty minutes, Armin and the guard moved them to a square hidden from plain sight. Armin made sure that they laid according to the right angle for the descent and then, the guard pulled the lever. The square surface opened and they slid through the tunnel with ease. Two minutes pasted so he had another three to take Marco and get out of this place. Armin moved back to his guarding spot and waited. A guard should discover Marco right about-

“Hey new guy! We have another one up here!”

 _Now. Right on time._ Armin smiled and headed up the stairs, grabbing Marco and dragging him away by his legs. This treatment would give Marco headaches once he woke up, but not dropping his persona was more important if they wanted to make it out of here alive. He followed the same procedure, placing Marco on the square pulling the lever and see Marco go. Now, he had five minutes to leave from this prison. Fortunately, all had gone according to plan and they were right on time. His shift was ending now. His replacement showed up just then and Armin saluted his temporarily colleagues. _Now walk fast but don’t run._ Giving instructions helped him keep his composure and not think about how if he didn’t get out of here on time, three men would be dead because of him.

Ten minutes left.

Fortunately, the prison consisted of lots of different secret alleyways that helped the guards navigate through the prison quickly, in case of a riot or an emergency occurred. Without these it would have taken him twenty minutes to reach the main exit. Now, in only two, he was out of the prison. An important note about The Arcana was that it was built on a remote island, the only way to reach it being a boat. Fortunately for him, Jean had arranged for that as well. Once he reached the one of the many docks of the island a boat waited for his arrival. As usual, for anyone alive to leave the island, they had to have the right papers. The guards guarding the dock did their usual check up and let Armin pass through. He was so close. This was going to be the last time he was in this place.

He thanked them and moved ahead, his heart ready to break out of his chest from the pressure. _Six minute._ He moved to get on the boat, a petit blond girl awaiting inside.

“Hold up!” one of the guards shouted.

Armin froze in his place, a leg inside the boat and the other on the dock. _Please let it be nothing… Not now… We are so close…_

He turned to face the guard that approached, putting an effort to keep up with his poker face.

“Is something wrong?”

The guard smiled and extended his palm to Armin. “You dropped this”

Armin’s eyes widened. His ring. How could he have missed it when it fell? It was his most important possession. “T-Thank you” he reached out, taking the ring and putting it inside his pocket.

“Have a safe trip home” the guard waved goodbye and returned to his place. Armin got on the boat and they left. They were away. The danger was over. He let out a long breath he hadn’t realized he was holding in and turned to look at his companion for the trip back.

“I thought we were caught for a moment there… How do you guys live with this stress?”

The girl smiled, removing her hood once they were in a safe distance from the harbor.

“Well, it all adds up to experience”

It had been a long time since he had last seen Christa. Well, it had been a long time since he had seen anyone really. Working at that horrible place, seeing all that death happen in such cruel ways had gotten to him eventually. At least it was worth it in the end. And he would have done it again with no doubt.

As they moved through the sea, Armin slowly saw a light becoming brighter in the distance. They had reached the ship. _Three minutes left._ Once they got close enough, a familiar faced waved at them, dropping down the ladder to climb aboard. Connie springer had not changed a bit. But he had to hurry, time was running out.

Once Armin got on board he searched for the three man that he needed to bring back to life. He only saw two of them unconscious. Jean was awake, sitting up against the ship’s main mast. His skin was paler than usual, the loss of blood had made its toll on him. He moved towards him to help his body cope with that loss, but Jean shook his head.

“I am fine, for now at least. I can hold up. They don’t have much time”

 _He is right_. Without objecting, Armin kneeled in front of Marco first. He examined his body and closed his eyes to focus. He had to make his heart start beating again. He thought about all those lessons he had taken back at the academy about the human body and its way of functioning. If only he had kept up with his studies, it wouldn’t be this hard to heal others. To help his friends. Normally he would need less than a minute to restore the beating. Now it took him two. Marco gasped and sat up, breathing heavily and coughing, as if he got his senses back after fainting from drowning. It was as gentle as Armin could be given his skills.

He didn’t have time to focus on Marco as he moved to the next unconscious person that was on the boat. That face. How long had it been since he had last seen that face? An old friend, an old lover and a long-lost opportunity. A year had passed since they took him away. A year of regret for Armin because he couldn’t help him in any way. But now it was all good. Now he had finally found him, and he could repay his debt. Once more he closed his eyes, only this time, he was gentler. Seeing the others face had calmed him, a burden being lifted off his shoulders. And the other simply opened his eyes looking up at him. _Thank God…_

At first the brown-haired man seemed lost, as if he was relieving a dream he had seen so many times before. That was strange. Armin did not expect that reaction. He believed he didn’t deserve that reaction. The man sat up, his hand reaching to caress Armin’s cheek softly and gently, like he had done many times before.

“Eren…” it felt fulfilling calling that name one last time. And Armin was lost in the touch and the longing.

At first it was soothing. After a while, when the reality of what had happened had sunk in, Armin saw the sift in the eyes of the man. The peaceful look was replaced with hatred and Eren attack Armin, wrapping his arms around Armin’s neck and chocking him. He hit his head on the ground by the force of the jump on him and soon enough he felt the air leave his lung and abandon him. _This is more like it._ He managed to smile even though tears were leaving his eyes. It was meant to be like this, it was what he deserved. Armin closed his eyes and accepted it.

Before he could surrender to his fate though, a loud bump was heard, and his attacker fell on the ground, unconscious for one more time. Jean had knocked him out with a stool that was close to him.

“That’s for…” he paused, trying to keep up his breathing. “Stabbing me…” He took a step forward as to try and kick Eren’s body before he lost his balance and tripped. He didn’t fall on the floor, as Marco got there before he could, holding him in his place. The worry in Marco’s eyes was obvious. And it had replaced the anger Armin had saw from before.

For a moment Armin had forgotten how both Jean and Eren were severely injured. He had to work on their wounds. After finding his breathing, Armin stood up to get next to Jean and Marco. “Stop, talking Jean. You’ll make your wounds worse.”

Jean laughed and leaned his whole weight on Marco, his eyes slowly closing.

“It takes…” he paused “More than this… to kill me”

And with that Jean passed out, giving in to his wounds. Marco tried to keep him up but gradually sat down while holding Jean close to his embrace.

“Jean! Hey! Stay with us you bastard! Armin! Do something!”

And all Armin could do was stare as Connie showed up with a few members of the Raven’s, lifting Jean and Eren up and moving them to the cabin where the doctors Jean had hired would operate on them in hopes of saving them. And for the first time, Armin felt like the Drüskelle were right. He was a weapon of destruction that was cursed by God.


End file.
